I take the elevator up to the thirty-fifth floor after punching in my private access code. The doors open directly into my penthouse.
I’m a busy man, so it helps me to compartmentalize my life. That goes for my properties, too. Some are for business, others for pleasure—and this one on Madison Avenue, the grandest of my skyrise real estate, is just for me.
I come here when I’m craving peace and quiet, when I want to be completely alone with my thoughts.
Or with my assistant’s filthy f*****g fantasies.
There’s no peace and quiet to be found here tonight. The only thing swimming around in my head is Ms. Carson. Her pert little mouth. Those innocent almond eyes. The way her ass moves when it’s sheathed in a silk dress.
I’m not blind—I noticed her the moment she stepped into my office for
